Angelic Demon
by Crazy Twilight Lover
Summary: What monster is Edward hiding that he released during his rebellious years? A look into the past. Rebellious Edward. He's always thinking he's a monster... A bit of violence. One-shot. Warning: If you don't like depressing and dark stories, don't read!


**Author's Note-I'm in school. And I'm totally bored. I was busy trying to finish His Emerald Eyes and getting mad at random people. I know I'm not allowed to write rated M stories, being twelve, but I swear this is not that bad. It's rated M only for safety. And it's my most depressing story so far.**

**I got this idea randomly and wanted to see how it would come out. In fact, I'm rather pleased with how this one-shot was written.**

**Would you like a cookie? So would I.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

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Angelic Demon

**Reader's Note:**

Have you ever wondered what Edward Cullen was like during his rebellious years? When he was wild and untamed, slaughtering and with the blood of hundreds on his hands? One thing we do know: he was very different from the charming man he is today. A look into the past revels all, a past that he is forbidden by himself to remember, but can never forget. This is the life of a blood-thirsty vampire. This story strives on fear, blood, and violence. And death. Readers, you have been warned.

**Edward's POV**

Strange to know that demons are almost always in the form of an angel. Here I was, a bloodthirsty monster, and people were promenading around as if they didn't know their lives were at stake. Which they didn't.

I was not as inconspicuous as I wanted to be. After all, who wouldn't notice an inhumanly beautiful teenager who scarcely looked a day over seventeen? And who wouldn't notice those hateful red eyes that separated me from everyone else, marked me as a monster? A demon? A vampire.

I was longing to go back to Carlisle and Esme, to join them once again and embrace their style of life willingly. But the selfish part of me was not willing to give up human blood, not willing to give up the pleasure of the warm sticky liquid running down my throat, sating me more than any mountain lion could. And the moral part of me was too ashamed to face my adoptive parents, even though I knew they would forgive me. They might, but I could _never_ forgive myself.

You can call me a sinner, a criminal, an outlaw. A murderer. I won't care. I was used to having the blood of humans on my hands. I had to kill in order to survive; every person of my species did, though I wouldn't exactly call us people. We weren't living. We didn't have souls. We were the eternally damned.

Vampires.

Such a simple word, one that could make children run to hide under their beds, one that can make people shiver in terror. I bathed in fear, got energy from their dread of meeting death. I sucked the life substance out of them.

Sometimes, it's entertaining to watch. Exhilarating, even, to see the fragile humans break in front of you, to rip them limb from limb to atone for their sins. Other times, it's horrific to do, especially to the innocents. It's the life of a demon.

A monster like me survives on blood. Fear. Violence. And death. Yes, most definitely death.

Right now, I was crouched behind an empty alley, searching for my next dinner. Sifting through the minds passing me, looking for a criminal. Someone who was a minor version of me, who deserved to die, as did I.

But I couldn't die. Unlike them.

They deserved to die.

In their last moments of life, they were always cowering, unlike the person they showed to the outside world, the strong person who feared nothing. Their minds screamed terror and prayed for a way out of the bloody situation they always knew would come. They begged for forgiveness, vowed to never do wrong again if I let them go. But not one of them would, I knew.

And before they died, there was never regret. No, never regret for all the wrongdoings they had committed.

As I wandered through minds, I found that more than one person seemed to be wondering what I was doing. I ignored them, but slunk into the shadows a bit more so no one would get suspicious. The last thing I needed was capture by the hands of the Volturi.

The thoughts were ranging from random, to important, to just plain dull.

A man who was walking by briskly with an air of importance was thinking, _I have to get to the office, now! There are rumors that the stock market is going down dramatically…_

A lady strolling by with a baby, _Thomas is going to wake up soon. I better get to the apartment before he starts crying…_

A girl swaying past, _Maybe if I wear this cute new dress, David will notice me more!_

A boy holding a baseball bat running for home, _I wonder if chipmunks hibernate…_

About twenty minutes later, I found my victim.

He was a twenty-five year old man, and thinking thoughts vile enough to make me vomit if I weren't a vampire and didn't have the ability to do so. He was a rapist, a murderer, someone who took pleasure at taking the innocence and lives of others.

I was the death penalty, the consequence for his lifetime of crime. Right now, he was with another man, a twenty year old, "training" the younger man to take anybody he wanted and be proud of it. I could hear the younger man's thoughts, and knew he would have to die too.

It was not going to be painless. It was going to be anything but that.

It was what they deserved.

But didn't I deserve death too for all the murders I committed myself? The answer was yes. The only problem was, that was physically impossible for me.

Impossible because I was a vampire.

But I seriously needed to stop wallowing in self pity for getting into this hell of an existence, because that poor girl the rapists had their eye on still needed saving. And now, I could hear all three sets of thoughts.

The twenty year old thought, _Yes, man, another one. I can't believe how fast he traps them. He's like a hunter, and I bet he can defeat any demon that is unfortunate enough to stumble across us._ Ha, strong my foot. His trainer might looks strong, but in this case, _I_ was going to be the hunter, and they, the hunted. See how well they liked it then.

The other man, the twenty-five year old, was gloating mentally. _Sweet. Another one. We've got to do this again. I've missed it for the past two weeks. I wonder if this one is as feisty as the one we found in Wyoming? Hmmm...seems quiet and shy, but she'll be begging for her life._

And the girl, terrified beyond her wits, praying to God and stumbling away as fast as she could. _Please, God, save me, send an angel, anything. Please forgive me. I'm so sorry for everything I've done. I'm sorry, everybody._

She, at least, had some regret in her mind, though she did no wrong.

I could smell the hunt in the air, could see it in the way the predators hunted, could see it in the way the prey tried to escaped through merciless hands. I myself stalked, ready for another bloody meal that would leave my throat still burning, but sightly dimmed.

I could never quench that thirst completely, never, no matter how hard I tried.

The girl darted blindly into the maze of dark alleys, no sense at all where she was going. The men could feel her panic rising, and they basked in pleasure at the fact that they could make someone tremble with fear, dreading what would surely follow.

I was sickened by the thoughts they projected, one of the reasons I left Carlisle and Esme's way of life to explore the traditional way of life. I hunted only those who had done wrong. I never touched the innocents. But did that still make me a monster? Being the murderer of a murderer, was I still a monster?

I always hoped not, but neither my heart nor my brain could deny it any longer. Yes, I was a monster. A selfish, greedy monster.

One that was always thirsty, always left with wanting more. And more. And more.

There was no way possible that if God really existed, he would let me through the Gates of Heaven. Of course, Carlisle might be allowed...

Ha. Like I would ever even truly die. I was one of the undead, right? But maybe I could join my bioligical parents one day...if I was lucky. I almost laughed at the utter absurdity of it all.

I hated this existence. Would it have been better if I had died during the Spanish Influenza epidemic? Would it have been better to be put out of my misery? I was robbed of my humanity, my morals, my true self when I was changed. What had happened to Edward Masen, that lanky, happy-go-lucky emerald-eyed human boy who was so innocent and naive? He died, and when he did, a monster took his place.

I came across them then, still hiding in the shadows and waiting for the men to make the first move. How stupid and proud they were! Their pride made them cold-hearted, and that in turn made them stupid.

They should be in jail, to they got got off with a slap on the wrist. They thought they were so brilliant, so smart, but truly they were more naive they they thought. They could never compare to all the things I know, simply because am living History. A part of a curse.

I was close enough now to hear their speaking, and it disgusted and repulsed me.

"Sweetie, why don't you be a good girl and stay still?" the younger of the two men sneered.

That request was met by screaming and thrashing from the trapped and terrified girl. The other man pulled out a sharp pointed knife and placed it by her throat. I could taste fear in her scent.

Too occupied harassing her and making their victim cry, the men didn't notice me until the last minute. I grabbed hold of the older man's wrist, injuring it and flung him away from the girl. He flew a good ten, fifteen feet away from me and landed with an audible thump on the ground, hard enough to daze him momentarily, but not hard enough to make him crippled. I wanted to have my fun with this one. After all, he needed a painful, lingering death.

The younger man spun to look at me, surprise and fear on his face, disbelief laced across his features. How could I, such a young teenager, overpower his leader? I grabbed him and gestured wildly for the girl to go. She was bleeding slightly, and I didn't want to attack her.

Didn't want to make my life any more guilt-ridden than it already was.

She scrambled clumsily to her feet and thanked me a thousand times over, mentally and orally. _He's the angel God sent me! Oh, thank you God, thank you so so so much. Thank you!_

Indeed, I did look like an angel. But like I said, demons come in the form of an angel.

The man I was gripping by the scruff of his collar wasn't as cruel as the other, so I snapped his neck just to get it over with. Then, I turned to face..._him_.

He was pale, white, all the blood and courage gone from his face. But why should he have a painless death when he left all his victims to die?

I grinned at him, curling my upper lip to expose the two rows of sharp, gleaming pointed teeth, coated with venom. He trembled, but I wasn't about to let him give in so easily. So I taunted him.

In a voice soft and angelic as feathers, I purred, "Come on. What happened to the brave man you were? Come on, attack me, fight me, don't make it so easy, don't just stand there and wait for me to kill you like a coward."

It worked. He ran at me, his dagger raised high, ready to plunge it into my heart. I dodged easily and caught his injured wrist again and using it as a lever, hoisted him so he was caged between me and the alley wall. Smiling evilly and anticipating what was to come, I tore open the neck of his companion, letting the blood drip steadily onto the ground. Venom pooled in the mouth, but I swallowed it. I couldn't afford to lose my control now. Just a little while longer. This was just starting to get interesting.

The man nearly collapsed in horror, his eyes trained on the red liquid flowing freely from the fresh wound. I leaned over and swiped up a drop onto my finger, and licked my finger. Ah, the sweet taste of human blood. His knees gave out under him.

"Now you know what it feels like to be hunted?" I leered in his face. He trembled. Such a weak man. A coward. I was going to enjoy this.

In a sudden burst of violence, I ripped his arm from his body. He screamed, but I cut off his shriek by placing the dead man's hand in his mouth. That had him frozen in horror in two seconds flat. An interesting feat for a human.

I ripped his other arm off, then couldn't take it anymore. If I didn't quench my thirst soon, I would destroy a whole city.

I swooped down and bit his neck, and his warm blood flowed hot in my mouth. I swallowed it all greedily, sucking hard to get as much of it as possible. I would never grow tired of drinking human blood.

The sweet, richness filled my mouth, rushed down my throat and soothed the burning there. I was content, my body filling with energy and the man's adrenaline from before he died. _This _was great. _This_was so much better than mountain lion. How could Carlisle never try it?

I sucked the first man dry, then started on the second one. His blood was not as warm, having time to cool while I tortured the older man. But I still enjoyed every drop of it.

If anyone passed by just then, they would have seen something humans would call "a nightmare". A monster crouched over two limp, blood-less, and life-less bodies, his mouth dripping blood and that gory red substance splattered over his clothing, as if he had played with the blood before drinking it. It was a scene straight from a horror movie.

I discarded the bodies easily, tossing them into a pile and set fire to the pile. I also added my soiled clothing, getting fresh crisp ones. How I missed my old life, and the brief life I shared with my new parents!

When the fire was nothing but ashes and nothing could be identified, I left. It was a normal day of life.

I wanted to return to Carlisle and Esme. But before I could, I wanted to taste human blood one more time. Maybe, I was stronger than I thought. Maybe, I was too selfish and wanting my own desires so much, I stayed with this life.

I was, after all, an angelic demon.

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**Okay, I'm done. This is by far the best one-shot I've ever written. Please review if you like! Edward's always thinking that he has no soul and no afterlife, and that he's a monster. Poor kid, I swear he's in denial.**


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